


It's Much Too Late

by Sherwhotreksings



Category: Ghostbusters (2016), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Movie Night, Romance, light angst but only for 2 paragraphs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 13:40:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7716883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherwhotreksings/pseuds/Sherwhotreksings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A movie night arranged by Patty goes differently than Erin expected it, or maybe not so much. In which Erin finds herself spinning around on the straight-bi-gay scale.</p>
<p>Very light M for nakedness and sex mention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Much Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> My first Holtzbert fic, three weeks in the making. Title inspired by Don't You Want Me. In other news, HOLTZBERT IS AMAZING and I may or may not have just fallen head over heels in love with the both of them.

A night of movies and madness. That’s what Patty had promised Erin earlier this afternoon when she had persuaded all the busters to relax a little after a week of stressing over a particularly nasty ghost. Ever since the bar after Times Square, they all elected Patty the official destresser, in charge of making sure everyone takes it easy every once in awhile. 

Abby had been down for movie night right away. She pretty much does whatever Patty suggests for fun. Kevin turned her down because he has flashlight tag in Central Park tonight. Holtzmann said she’d join them if she gets her new ghost trap done in time, to which Patty informed her that she has no choice in the matter. 

Erin, however, has been dreading this moment since it was planned. She was looking forward to a little bit of time to herself. Everyone lives in the firehouse now, minus Kevin; Erin leased her apartment to him after all the girls decided it was more convenient to just move onto the third floor. That pretty much means the girls see each other every waking moment, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Erin just has a lot on her mind and needs to be away from everyone to figure it out… well not everyone, just one person in particular. 

The light from the street lamps outside filter into the mostly darkened room through the off white curtains covering the window behind the couch. It creates just enough light combined with the glow from the paused TV, to illuminate Holtzmann’s face as Erin stares across their improvised living room on the first floor. She is attempting to use one of her proton pistols to make popcorn because she accidentally brought the unpopped bag in from the kitchen and doesn’t want to make the 15 foot journey back. 

“ _ If  _ that works, would it even be edible? Won’t it give us radiation poisoning or something?” Erin narrows her eyes slightly, taking in the arch of Holtzmann’s back as she holds the bag out as far away from her as she can. 

Ever since they met, Erin has been fascinated by Dr. Jillian Holtzmann. It’s as if Holtzmann is a proton beam and the ghost is Erin’s brain; there is no way to escape her thoughts about her. Frankly it’s a bit disconcerting because she feels for Holtzy in a way she hasn’t really before. She’s never really considered herself gay, and yet all she can think about is the way Holtzmann’s lips would feel against hers, and because it’s Erin, her pent up feelings have released themselves in the form of aggressively flirting with Kevin; she doesn’t even like him that much. Sure he’s nice to look at, but she could never find someone that mindless attractive, she needs someone she can talk to intellectually, someone she can have deep conversations with at 3am when neither of them can sleep, someone like Jillian Holtzmann.  

She blinks a few times before shifting her eyes away. Unsurprisingly, none of the other ghostbusters seem the least bit concerned with Holtz’s methods. 

“It may or may not kill us,” Holtzmann throws out nonchalantly, as if it’s something that happens everyday. Well… it does, but that’s beside the point. 

Then as if she’s finally hearing what’s going down, Abby speaks up, “Let’s not use a proton beam to pop popcorn. Erin, go take that away from her!” 

“Me? Why do I have to?” Erin leans forward in the large cushiony chair she’s sitting on.

Abby slouches down further on the couch, stretching out her legs and resting her head on Patty’s shoulder next to her. “Because you’re the closest to her and you just said something about wanting to get a drink after the last movie, besides, I stopped her last time she pulled something crazy.”

Erin launches out of her chair just as Holtzmann hits the bag with a short burst from the proton pistol. “No. Holtzmann. Give me the bag.” She tackles Holtz, careful to avoid the beam, and struggles with her for the mostly crispy bag of popcorn. 

It takes one perfectly executed fake out and a precisely timed push on her shoulders to knock Holtz to the ground and for Erin to pin her, one knee on either side of her stomach. Holtzmann clutches the charred bag to her chest, one lone curl escaping her messily pinned back updo and dangling in front of her eyes.

“Give me the bag, Holtzy,” Erin says, an edge of warning in her tone.

“I just want to try a piece, one piece.” Holtzmann struggles to open the bag with Erin on top of her, arms flailing every which way. 

Erin reaches down, ready to use her secret weapon. Last week she found out that Holtzmann is extremely ticklish on her side, right above her hipbone, when Abby brushed by her and Holtzmann jumped away.

Holtzmann lets out a gasp as Erin’s fingers meet exposed skin and she drops the popcorn bag like a hot coal, bolting straight up, and Erin suddenly finds herself sitting directly in her lap, faces a few inches apart. Erin swallows hard, in desperate need of that drink because her mouth has gone dry. Holtzmann picks up on Erin’s sudden mood shift and smirks slightly, shifting her hips under Erin’s in a way that has her heart speeding up. This is why she needed time away from Holtzmann. How does she expect her to think when every second around Holtz is like  _ this _ . 

“Good. I- ah- I’m  going to go microwave some.” Just like that, Erin is up off of Holtzmann and sprinting into the kitchen, grasping the blackened bag like it’s the last thing keeping her grounded. 

When she returns 10 minutes later, she finds Holtzmann sprawled out in Erin’s chair. 

“Holtz,” Erin sighs. 

“Patty took my chair and yours was available,” she gestures to where Patty is now reclining since Abby fell asleep and started snoring in her ear. “We’ll just have to share.” 

Erin sets the popcorn down on the coffee table as Holtzmann wiggles to the side, so Erin can fit next to her. It’s a tight squeeze and she ends up with one leg hanging over Holtzmann’s, her arm smashed uncomfortably between the two of them. 

Holtzmann keeps fidgeting through the movie, moving her torso one way and then another. Erin can feel all the tension radiating from her body. She supposes it’s because this is the third movie since 8 this night, landing them squarely in Holtzmann’s 1-3am energy zone and she hasn’t touched a tool since Patty dragged her in here. It’s then that Holtz slides her left arm out from between them and shakes it in an attempt to wake it up. With the freed up space, Erin’s shoulder slips into the place where Holtzmann’s arm used to be. With nowhere to go, Holtzmann’s hand hovers in the air for a millisecond before she places it gently on top of Erin’s thigh, above her knee. 

Erin’s not sure if it’s intentional because the four of them have pretty much given up on personal boundaries, something that happens when you’re living with your best friends. Casual touches are normal between the four of them, but Erin has a feeling this is something different. She tenses her thigh under Holtzmann’s touch and glances at Patty to see if she noticed. Patty is also asleep and snoring quietly. 

“You need to relax, the whole point of this night is to unwind,” Holtzmann whispers to Erin. 

“Says the queen of stress, you’re wound so tightly you might-” Erin stops mid sentence as Holtz gently massages the top of her lower thigh. It feels wonderful, better than wonderful even, if there is such a thing. She melts into the back of the chair, head rolling to the side and resting on Holtz’s shoulder. She lets out a soft groan. “That feels so good,” she says a little more than quiet and a little less than loud. Of course loud enough to wake up Abby. 

Holtzmann stops abruptly as Abby’s eyes open and focus in on the two of them sitting in the chair together. 

“Comfortable?” Abby asks with a laugh, seemingly oblivious to what had just transpired. 

“It’s a bit painful actually.” Holtzmann subtly grinds into the chair, alluding to a different sort of pain. Thankfully it went unnoticed by Abby, but Erin is completely aware of it because she can feel each tiny movement. 

“I’m going to bed,” Abby yawns, standing and stretching. 

Erin blurts out, “Take Patty with you. I mean, wake her up and have her go to bed too. You should be sleeping in your beds and not here because you won’t be able to sleep here. Well, you would, but it wouldn’t be good sleep because there’s going to be non-sleep activities going on and-” she rambling and she should stop before she says something she’ll regret. 

Both girls are staring at Erin in amusement, Holtzmann grinning like she’s fully aware she’s the one that caused Erin’s current mental state, and Abby on the verge of crying from holding in laughter at Erin’s fumbling. 

“Come on Patty, let’s go upstairs and give Holtzbert some privacy.” Abby shakes Patty’s arm and the two of them leave while snickering through yawns.

Abby is teasing, using the nickname Patty came up for them after their rather close friendship developed, but Erin still can’t help the bright blush that spreads across her face and down to her chest. She stands and picks up the mostly full bowl of popcorn. 

“Are you done with this?” Erin asks shakily, heading to the kitchen without getting an answer. She’s nervous about it being just the two of them. She still hasn’t quite figured out where she stands on the straight/bi/lesbian scale and being in such close proximity to Holtzy makes her feel like straight isn’t the right word for her.

When she returns from the kitchen, Holtzmann is sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the table, eyes trained on the TV. She turns her head and gives Erin a wink, grinning at the way Erin’s mouth has fallen open just a bit. She has a choice, Erin could sit back in her chair, or join Holtz on the couch and see where things go. She’s not so interested in this movie anyway.

“Good choice.” Holtzmann grins, “Now where were we? Oh right, I was making you moan.” There’s an edge in her voice Erin perceives as something dangerously flirtatious. 

“Yes, well,  _ no _ , but that felt amazing and I- but you- and-”

Holtzmann cuts her off. “Just shut up and kiss me.” 

Erin isn’t quite sure how she got to this point, but she’s dragging Holtzmann to her mouth by her shirt that’s balled in her hands, and Holtzmann’s arms are wrapping around her waist, pulling her over, over, over, until they’re practically one person, and Erin  _ likes it _ . She likes the way Holtz is sliding her one hand under the edge of her shirt, the way Holtz is moaning in the back of her throat as Erin gently scrapes her teeth along her bottom lip and where did that even come from? She has never felt compelled to use her teeth in any form of sexual activity and yet here Erin is, nipping at Holtzy like a freaking puppy. 

It sparks something in Holtzmann, something Erin has never fully seen, only glimpsed the outer edge of because Holtz’s hand is in her hair and tugging to expose Erin’s neck, and is sucking a dark mark into her skin.

“Holtz- please-” Erin gasps out, snaking her own hands into Holtzmann’s thick hair. 

“Baby. Jillian.” Holtzmann’s voice sounds like gravel and honey and Erin doesn’t know how that’s possible, but she is so turned on. “Call me Jillian right now.” 

“Jillian, I don’t know what to do,”

Hearing her first name out of Erin’s mouth makes her work that much harder, both hands are under Erin’s shirt and quickly sliding upwards as she licks a line from Erin’s pulse point to her collar bone. 

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Erin states quietly as she works at slowly unbuttoning Jillian’s shirt, eyes locked on her hands.

“It’s a good thing I’m toppy as hell.” 

Somehow Jillian has already gotten her own pants off while lifting Erin’s shirt off and she tosses both to the side, narrowly avoiding hitting the TV. Erin pushes Jillian’s flannel button down off, and Jillian instructs her to lie back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

 

~GB~

 

Erin’s not sure what she expected, honestly. Probably anything other than waking up on the couch without Jillian beside her. Should she keep calling her Jillian, or go back to Holtzmann? In her head she’ll be Jillian no matter what happens now. She rolls over, stretching out her stiff and sore muscles. The last thing she remembers is being too tired to walk up the two flights of stairs to the third floor, so she and Jillian slept on the couch. Rather, she slept on the couch and Jillian slept on her, since the couch isn’t wide enough for two people to lie next to each other. She can already tell her hair is incredibly messy and can only imagine what Jillian’s looks like.  

Sitting up, Erin looks around the room, no Jillian to be seen. She kind of hoped she moved off her that morning and Erin would find her curled up on the chair next to her, face buried in the newest ghost adventure novel, or on the floor at the foot of the couch, tinkering with some gadget. What does that say about Erin, about their relationship? She lets the disappointment wash over her, settling in her stomach. It obviously meant something different to Jillian, especially since she always defined herself as “soft” and “cuddly” when it came to relationships and sex. However, in the year that she’s known Jillian, Erin has never actually seen her in a relationship, or with another woman in fact. 

Erin digs the heels of her hands into her eyes in an attempt to stave off tears. She doesn’t like to cry, but it’s something that strongly conflicts with her personality because she cries over everything. 

A quiet clearing of someone’s throat causes Erin to look up, disguising her wiping away tears by running her fingers through her hair. Jillian is standing in the doorway, holding a cookie sheet of blueberry pancakes, juice, and other assorted breakfast foods. Erin shyly grabs at the blanket beside her with a furrowed brow and slight tear streaks and wraps it around her chest, sad embarrassment overwhelming her. She would’ve put on her shirt, but she’s not quite sure where it got to. 

“Hey, Holtzmann.”

Jillian frowns and cocks her head to the side, setting the cookie sheet down on the table. “I didn’t leave in the middle of the night.” 

Erin visibly relaxes her shoulders. 

“And you can still call me Jillian, baby. You don’t have to  _ all _ the time, just, you’re allowed to.” She threads her fingers into Erin’s hair and kisses her softly, settling into her lap. 

Erin wraps her arms around her waist, and finally notices where her shirt went. Jillian is wearing it and nothing else. 

“I figured we’d need a big breakfast after burning so many calories last night. Also, my stomach was growling so loud this morning that I was afraid I’d wake you up.” 

Erin chuckles. She was worried about nothing. “Thank you.” 

Just then Patty and Abby run down the stairs, hooting, hollering, and whistling at them.

“It’s about time!” Abby exclaims excitedly. 

“Yeah, we were wondering when it would happen. Pay up, Abby!” Patty holds out her hand expectantly while Abby grumbles and places a wad of cash on her palm. 

Erin turns a dark shade of red, surprised at being caught naked with only a blanket while kissing Jillian. Jillian, instead, turns a bright pink, grinning like a maniac and just generally happy to finally be with her. 

“We’ll be on our way, and out of your hair,” Abby looks pointedly at the two of them, trying to convey that they should go somewhere private, “just as soon as I take some of this.” She piles some of the pancakes onto a napkin left over from last night and darts out of the room, Patty following her lead.


End file.
